


Behold the Sun

by Lotus_Dumplings



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, France is genderfluid, Hanging Gone Wrong, Hey like it doesn't make an appearance here, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Near Death, Pirates, Please Kill Me, and Prussia is my bb, and like Roma is trans but you didn't hear it from me, but it does in a future for set same verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Dumplings/pseuds/Lotus_Dumplings
Summary: "Any last words?"The people begin to quiet down. It's been days. Her throat is dry, her voice is rough. But she clears it anyway, licking her chap lips. The sun beams down on her. It's exhausting, but it's exhilarating. She closes her eyes, taking it in."Behold the sun."-----Prumano Week 2019, Day Five
Relationships: Female Prussia/Female South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Behold the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I'll choose consistent names when I die.  
> Genoveva- Prussia  
> Idalia- South Italy  
> Rose- England  
> Indigo- France

The wind picks up dangerously in what she can only guess is a warning. A warning from the sea and the skies to make way. No one will heed it, however. A shame, for them. But for Genoveva, it’s her saving grace. 

She walks barefoot against cold stone. She thinks to the heels of her past and the boots of her future. A royal, an outlaw, or a freed woman, she walks the same regardless. Tall, proud, and ready. The world can chain her, cage her, rip away her wings, but they cannot change who she is. 

Forward, she marches. Even when the guards laugh and tease, even when the outraged shouts break through the walls, even when the sun begins to hurt her eyes. The sun. A smile makes its way to her lips. Stupid, the lot of them.

The screaming only gets louder at that. It's deafening, shaking Genoveva to her core. Still she goes forward, chains clanging as she moves. Her wrists and ankles flair bright red in pain. Her white dress, crafted by the hand of her love, is in tetters. Her hair has been torn from her scalp, some spots in worse condition than others. She's been made to resemble her true self: someone forced to kneel at the force of society. But she will kneel no longer. Today, she stands.

The rope decorates her neck like pearls. The crowds cheer. Of course they do. For a second, all of the eyes are grey. Father's eyes, silently communicating disappointment, discontent. But they're gone just as quickly as they came, for this is not silent. It is not mild. They don't want her to change; they want her dead.

"Any last words?" 

The people begin to quiet down. It's been days. Her throat is dry, her voice is rough. But she clears it anyway, licking her chap lips. The sun beams down on her. It's exhausting, but it's exhilarating. She closes her eyes, taking it in. 

"Behold the sun."

They barely hear her, but they do not care. They boo, shout, yell. But if they don't care about her word, she doesn't care about theirs. 

She inhales. Exhales. She's ready. 

The rope snaps. 

The shouts stop for a moment, before starting up again. But they aren't angry anymore. They're scared. Genoveva opens her eyes, barely catching a wisp of chestnut hair before the guards around her crumble. Tan arms wrap around her, picking up her frail frame effortlessly. 

"You're so thin," Idalia says, morosely. 

Genoveva frowns. "Do not pity me. I can stand."

"Yes. Yes, you can. Better than anyone I know." Idalia nuzzles into her neck, places a few soft kisses. "But let me help you this once."

The world pauses, then, and Genoveva is lost in the beautiful heat that is Idalia del Sole. She relaxes in the hold. She's still moving forward, she decides, but with a little assistance. Soft blue meets bright gold, like the ocean meets the coast. They will always find their way to each other, like the sand will find the waves. Like the sun will find the moon. 

Idalia leaps from the platform, dodging as many guards as possible before making her way to a ledge. "Rose, Indigo! Our job here is done!" 

"Well, let's go then! They're going to call for more," Rose says, knife between her teeth as she stuffs stolen pearls into her pockets. 

Just as the Guard charges in, Indigo shoots at them, blowing a chunk in the stone above them. He smiles. "Hang on tight. I believe Felice is piloting today." 

Idalia brightens at that, catching Genoveva's breath. A real adventure awaits them, that's for sure. Finally, the Girl Kissed by the Sun lets out a resounding laugh. "One and all, may you remember the name Idalia of the Sun, and rue the day you messed with her people!" 

And she kisses her, long and sweet as they fall into the blue below.

**Author's Note:**

> Genoveva is the Latin form of Germanic name Kenowefa—woman of the race. It's also Spanish for white phantom and is a opera name. I found it fitting.
> 
> Idalia is sometimes used in Italy, but it's actually a Greek name meaning behold the sun.
> 
> Rose. Means rose. Straight forward.
> 
> Indigo is both a shade of purple and a flower, which is a reference to my other name for nyo!France, Violette. 
> 
> Yes every name but Rose's is a bad pun.


End file.
